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Ch. 10: Cold of the Road
(Return to Arheled) Fire and smoke raged and seethed in the hidden chamber under the earth. Tiny amid the vast places Lara Midwinter crouched on the cave floor, shaking with cold despite the heat all around her, as the seven giant heads of the dragon peered and weaved around her.'' '' '' “Can you lead Leviathan with a hook through his nose?” the great, rumbling, scorching voice of the Dragon crashed in her ears. ''“When he sneezes, light flashes forth; his eyes are like the lids of the morning. '' '' “His heart shall be as hard as stone, and firmer than the anvil of a smith. Where he shall raise him up, the angels shall fear, and being affrighted will purify themselves. There is no power upon earth that can be compared with him who was made to fear no one.” '' “D-d-dragons are myths.” Lara managed to force out. She could not think. She could not feel. She was cold. Her body had passed beyond shaking, into a terrible, numb paralysis. “And we have made sure that all believed that we were.” the Dragon laughed. “Do not the fairy tales say that we can shift our shape to walk as men? Do the scientists dare suspect that the interior organs of their dinosaurs may have been unlike those of modern beasts? But of course, you don’t read fairy tales, do you? You homeschoolers shun them as pagan, as too near to the occult, and in so doing you sunder yourself from one of reality’s chief faces.” Lara felt the heat of the chamber beating vainly upon her from without, from somewhere far away. She quaked no longer. No shivers ran through her. She was utterly frozen. Looking down at her hands she saw the flesh was slowly turning pale blue. “I saw you in the heavens.” she said. “You hide behind the Wolf. You are the Father of Dragons.” “She admits it at last.” smiled the seven faces. “And well for the Star that she does, for they are the last words she will utter in this life. ''I saw you in the heavens, A little star…''how touching, that. Now come, It is time for you to take your seat upon your throne.” “I will not.” “Oh really?” laughed the Father of Dragons. “And who might you be to be making such statements to the oldest of Dragons?” Lara lifted her head. An utter clear stillness possessed her. Everything she saw she comprehended in crystalline clarity. She felt immeasurably strong, and deadly, and devoid of any regard. “I am Cold.” she said. Flesh and hair and eyes alike were hued the blue of winter ice. Her clothes crinkled when she moved. She saw sudden comprehension in the seven pairs of eyes, and then he unleashed upon her a torrent of flame. White-hot as the essence of the heats of the Sun was that fire. Stone all around them evaporated into plasma, exposing a floor of black stone that gleamed but did not melt, to which was welded the bed of the cauldron. Neither it nor the thrones were touched by the heat. And that fire expired where it touched her. “Do you think a mere ice-super is going to mock the Father of Dragons?” he said. All seven mouths opened up this time. This time the heat was so great that the air around them caught on fire, and for miles above miles the stone and lava and water and air burst into plasma, and the plasma burned. “I have connected my throat to the inside of the Sun, and you are facing the furnaces of a nuclear star. Not even Iceman and Icebox, not even the Medallion of Cold, could face such temperatures and live.” He shut the doorway to the Sun before he could vaporize any landmasses above, and hardened the plasma back into rock. And still Lara Midwinter stood before him, that detached stare in her frozen eyes, her flesh as blue as ice. “You don’t understand.” she said, in a voice as remote and devoid of feeling as a winter night. “I am not a superhero. I am not ice. ''I am Cold.” Heat expired. Lava turned instantly to stone, and stone grew brittle and shattered. Light faded until all red had departed the chamber, and the only light was the pure hue of the unearthly pillar, and the glare of the Dragon’s eyes. The blue figure that faced him made no move, spoke no word, only radiated cold as if it had an energy and force of itself, and was not the mere slowing down of molecules which is only an effect of cold. The air began to condense like dew upon her clothing, and the thrones, and the motionless figures upon them, and flakes of snow fell ever thicker about them. Except it was not snow. The air itself was freezing. Then it was completely frozen, lying like a floor of ice above the black Earthheart, and the dragon and the starmaiden, both standing on nothing since the evaporation of the floor, faced against each other in a vacuum. The Father of Dragons opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He linked his seven throats to seven stars greater than the Sun, and then to seven more, and then to seventy times seventy stars; and still the torrent of their furnaces expired as it left the gates of his mouth. Harder tried the Father of Dragons, but the cold of Lara was reaching inside him now. Into his roaring mouths the tide of cold pressed. He felt his scales crackle with ice. He felt his flesh freeze like meat left out in winter. Only the torrent of the fires of the stars was keeping him from freezing completely. “I feel you trying your angelic power on me.” the passionless voice of Lara spoke; even though no sound could reach through the vacuum they stood in, he heard her. “I feel you trying to flee, trying to enter my mind, trying to command the matter around you or quench me with magic. Don’t you know anything, you ancient serpent? Though you gain great power over matter by wearing it as a shape, you hamper yourself correspondingly in using your natural power. While you are yet Dragon, you cannot use the strength you need to fight me.” “Have you forgotten, cold one, that we are able to walk, if we wish, unclad?” the Father of Dragons answered darkly. His body crumpled and went limp; but the light in his eyes, though it flickered, could not go out. “Have you forgotten, old lizard, that the mind can suffer from its’ own cold?” Lara replied. “And I am Cold, and it is me. It is by your cold spirit and your cold will that I am forbidding you to leave your crystallizing body. If you had a warm heart, you could have escaped me.” “None of the Damned have any warmth in our hearts.” the Father of Dragons whispered bitterly. “I am defeated. Never could I have dreamed Arheled would raise up so dirty a trick against me. Pale Galilean, you have conquered.” Then with a crinkle and crunch that entire dragon became solid ice, and fell, to land heavily in the frozen air that lay deep and blue upon the distant floor. Slowly Lara Midwinter floated to the thrones. At her touch the energy holding them froze. Lifting all four of her friends in the grip of bands of solid cold, she reached to the surface. Her questing cold found an answering cold, and she sent them there, and turning to the chamber she spoke one word. “''Seal.”'' she said. She felt a force of tremendous power pour down upon the chamber, summoned by her voice. It sealed. Lara reached out to the surface and pulled herself there, and let the cold collapse away from her at last. All five of them, four in ridiculously long gownlike robes, were lying sprawled on the floor of the walk-in cooler of McDonald’s of Winsted. At least, she was pretty sure it was, but then all McDonald’s freezer probably looked alike. No, there was the bag of rusty lettuce she remembered noticing when she had to clean the place the other day. What she didn’t remember was the ankle-deep water on the floor. “Eew, gross, I hate sitting in puddles.” Travel was saying. “It smells weird in here. Like rusty food. Going sour.” That was Bell. Ronnie was holding up his long flowing red sleeves with a disgusted expression and saying, “Who the heck thought this was a fashion statement??” Despite herself Lara had to laugh. Lifting the lever she pushed open the door and they emerged into a totally empty McDonald’s. At least, all the lights were off and no customers were up front, but Debbie could be heard grumbling not far off and James was whistling some inane tune absent-mindedly somewhere else. Water flowed out of the walk-in; the outside floor was unflooded, though the water-mark a foot up the walls said it hadn’t always been. Lara smuggled old uniform shirts and canvas pants to everyone: bright red shirts and black pants. They shuffled out front cautiously. James was mopping the lobby and didn’t see them. Debbie was apparently in the back storeroom. As a result they made it to the bathrooms unobserved to change. Lara sighed: she still had her uniform on, and was probably going to get docked. She headed in back to face Debbie. “Well! Where’d you disappear to, miss?” demanded the manager, straightening up from the soggy boxes on the lowest shelf. “You’ve been gone almost two hours. I hope you know you’ll be docked for this.” She was a hard, plain-faced woman in her forties, with dull half-shut eyes that always wore too much blue makeup. “I was kidnapped in the parking lot.” said Lara. Debbie’s eyes opened fully. “Good heavens.” she said. “You’re joking, right?” “Look it up on the security footage.” said Lara. “So, what happened here?” Debbie, on the way to the office, said over her shoulder, “’Bout two minutes after you walked out the door this wave came down the river—I’m serious, a brown wave, I was out grabbing a smoke and I saw it—and the water went clear across Main. We had it a foot deep in here. I sent the crew home while I assessed things—not much damage, once we clean up we should be open in an hour. I’ll have to call everyone back over.” She snorted as she rewound the parking-lot camera’s TV screen. Then she replayed it. “Yep, there’s me.” said Lara. “Who’s the tramp?” “He—he was dressed up as my uncle. Uncle Peter has weird hair and it’s pretty easy to make a wig like that.” Debbie gave her a funny look. “You have odd family.” she said. They watched as Lara and the false Peter went out into the parking lot, and then the camera’s view was blocked by a parked dark-green SUV with flame-decals. Nobody came out from behind it. “Wow. I guess you were right; he does seem to be kind of frog-marching you. Where’d he take you?” “Out by the park. He had me tied, but then a cop car came by and spooked him so he took off. Took me all this while to get the tape off.” “Good for you! The cops got him yet?” “Don’t worry, they picked him up already and I filled all sorts of complaint forms, and he’s somewhere perfectly safe.” said Lara dryly. “Do I still get docked?” “Naw, I’ll just put you in as leaving with the others—they left about twenty minutes after that—and clock you in—let me see—you had to use the bathroom at 6, it’s 8:00 now—I’ll clock you in twenty minutes after you start.” “Thanks, Debbie.” smiled Lara. “You’re welcome. You can stay as late as you want; I’ll pay you overtime. Take a break, and start work in twenty minutes. OK?” “Sorry, kids, we’re closed.” James’s voice could be heard from up front. “Awww, we’re so hungry! Can’t you let us buy a cheeseburger?” Bell’s voice sounded coaxingly. “How did they get in? I could have sworn I locked those doors!” fumed Debbie, heading up front. “As far as that goes, how’d you get in here?” “Um, they were—the ones who found me tied up.” said Lara. “We just pulled and the door opened. I guess it must not have caught.” “Hmph, I’m going to have to look at that lock. Here, these were all going to be thrown out; you can let them have them. Just make sure they don’t tell anyone or the place will be swamped with kids expecting free food.” grumbled Debbie, handing Lara a garbage bag full of old wrapped cheeseburgers that had been out front too long. “Can we use your phone?” piped Bell. “Sure thing, honey. Just hit ‘9’ before you dial the number.” and Debbie showed Bell to the wall phone. It was an old model, with square buttons and a square receiver hat actually was long enough to reach from ear to mouth. Not as old-fashioned as a rotary-dial, but Bell liked it. Forest stood beside her. The others were heading over to a front table where they could see the TV. Bell counted the rings—three—four—and then Mrs. Lake’s voice, tight and anxious. “Hello?” “Mom? It’s Bell.” She held the phone away from her ear with a grimace as Mrs Lake erupted in exclamations and questions. She made a wry face at Forest. “Are you sure she’s your mom?” she said under her breath to him. “You never talk…she never stops.” “She’s your mom, too.” he retorted. “Yes, Mom, we’re fine. No, we’re not at the jail. We’re at McDonald’s and we all need rides.” Eventually she pried her mom off the phone and hung up. “She’s coming in fifteen minutes.” she reported. “Let’s grab one of those burgers before Ronnie eats them.” “Can she give me a lift?” Travel called over. “And aren’t we, like, wanted or something?” “And how’d the bridge get fixed?” said Forest. “I thought she was stuck on the Island.” “Dad drove the car over it at top speed. Figures he would. He still thinks he’s Bruce Lee.” Bell said affectionately. “Hey guys,” called Ronnie, “come look at this.” They joined him and Lara at the table and looked up at the big flatscreen TV high up in one corner. What caught their eyes immediately was the name of their town across the screen. “…and now we bring you a full report on the tremendous occurrences happening at Winsted. Live on the scene, here’s our Terry Wilcox. Terry, what can you tell us about the events here in this back-country Connecticut town?” said the anchorwoman. Terry, dark-haired and petite, tried to disguise her girly voice by saying in a no-nonsense tone, “Cory, rumors and wild tales are rife in the aftermath of what is undoubtedly a phenomenon of nearly inexplicable origin. Apparently at 5:34 Eastern time a massive tidal wave occurred in a bay of Highland Lake, which somehow managed to literally strip the soil from several nearby islands. Damage around the lake was catastrophic; no death toll has yet been reached, but figures are expected to be high. Here’s the clearest footage from numerous cell-phone videos taken at the scene.” A massive streaming wall filled the screen, doubtless the trailing water pouring from the ends and bottom of the tilting lake. The slab of water was only dimly discernible far above; the camera had been too close. “Eyewitnesses are describing a literal rising of the lake water, even though no earthquake tremors or severe weather has been reported for the region. Terry was replaced by about five or six clips of typical lake-tourists in beach wear. “It was like the whole lake got up and stood on its’ head.” said a middle-aged woman with a hard tanned face. A handsome young man with no shirt was saying excitedly, “It was like it was peeled up like a pancake—I swear I never seen anything like it.” A young woman in a very revealing top babbled, “it was awesome—it was scary as hell—I thought I was gonna die.” An older fisherman-type gentleman said, “The whole lake just sorta tilted up and up—it musta been a good quarter-mile, half-mile high—just the water, though not the bottom—and then just sorta foom.” making a downward motion. “Seismologists report no fault or earthquake activity in the NW corner for the time given. There were no erratic weather formations; a few thunderstorms in the formative stage had not reached farther south than Norfolk, but none of them could have caused this. Damage around the lake was total in the Third Bay area, with washed out roads and cottages,” here several clips of damage were shown, “—and mild farther north, with only a few surges inundating buildings and breaking loose boats. Further complicating matters is a manhunt by state and local police for a group of six young people wanted on suspicion of murder in the area. As the scene of the murder happens to be the very island worst hit by the wave,” a clip of Club Island blasted to its’ bones appeared, “any evidence of the crime was lost at the scene. An attorney for two of the young people has asked a judge to remit the charges on the grounds of insufficient proof that a murder was even done. Oh, it looks like the judge complied, folks; word from the courthouse is that the police had their case dismissed for lack of proof.” “Can you verify rumors of a large flood control berm west of the two mysteriously being breached?” the anchorwoman said. “Cory, ‘breached’ does not begin to describe what helicopter footage has gathered. The berm, built by the Army Corps of Engineers after the Flood of ’55, was over two hundred feet high and nearly half a mile long at the top, completely filling a deep gorge along Mad River. This dam has apparently ceased to exist. There are no traces of an explosion; it’s as if the entire dam was vaporized. Satellite footage shows a large red shape on the dam” the picture was replaced by a blow-up of the dam from an apparent height of 500 feet, showing the figure of a long, red, branched thing. “The Father of Dragons.” said Lara. The footage then showed an eruption of fire and weirdly curling smoke that changed hue inexplicably. This settled to show a round dome instead of the dike or the dragon. The hills seemed to be shifting or wavering. Then quite abruptly the dike disappeared. Terry had been talking as the footage played, but all Forest heard was “speculations of a top-secret experiment of new military weaponry.” Now he began to pay attention. “Massive flooding occurred in downtown Winsted in a surge that lasted about ten minutes, carrying water in some places to almost four feet above Main Street. Main Street follows the river very closely as it passes through Winsted,” aerial footage of Winsted from above followed, “and local restaurants too close to the river reported a foot of water inside; McDonald’s was closed for two hours, and Dunkin Donuts for three.” “Thank you, Terry. Well, that’s a look at what’s happening in the state today, and in half an hour we’ll have an interview with General Lincoln of the US Army, who is adamant no equipment the Army possesses could bring about the results we’ve seen today. Science fiction scenarios about alien tractor beams and vaporizing rays, as well as other paranormal explanations, will doubtless be abounding.” They had dinner at the Island, Mrs. Lake refusing to hear of anything else. Lara promised to come by in a few hours “if they don’t keep me till midnight,” but she seemed subdued and a little washed-out, and Forest was sure she wouldn’t show. The sight of Brooke lying prone upon her bed had a sobering effect upon the others. Conversation at the table lagged. “Well, we can have Brooke taken to the hospital now that I got the charges dismissed.” Professor Light was saying. “I mean, Cornello must have been nuts. He hasn’t even tried to sustain his case. I think he just wanted to harass us.” Mrs. Lake left to drive Travel home. The power was out and the generator was running the fridge, so nobody could watch movies, Bell and Forest went upstairs, and Mr. Light and Ronnie were left, facing each other across the table. “Okay.” said Hunter, passing one hand over his face. “What on earth is happening?” “You saw it, Hunter.” “That’s not what I mean. What I want to know is, how is this possible? How is any of this possible?” “You’re the scientist; don’t you have some scientific explanation?” Hunter clamped his face in his hands. “Even seismic activity can’t lift a whole lake on end while keeping it in one mass. There weren’t any tornados or air pressure systems. That leaves only ridiculous Star Trek-style tractor beams and vaporizing rays, unless the Army’s got some new bomb capable of vaporizing solid rocks without destroying the surrounding area. Unless you want to posit some paranormal force! I’m at a loss, Ronnie. I can’t say.” “And yet you are the one that told me everything is relative, and the conclusions of relativity lead inexorably to counter-intuitive propositions.” Ronnie said sternly. “Yet when faced with an actual counter-intuitive event, your mind rejects it as impossible, despite the inexorable evidence of your own eyes and those of countless others. And yet this event is much less incredible than your Twin Paradox.” “Are you saying there’s an explanation for this??” Ronnie looked him in the eye. “Brooke.” Mr. Light stared blankly back at him. “You saw her walk upon water, wrapped in the water. Water is hers to command, Hunter Light. She called upon the lake. And the lake answered.” “You’re saying the phenomena is…related to her.” Hunter said slowly. “Yes, I admit I saw her on the water. I’ve often wondered if I wasn’t—“ “Oh please. Let’s not go hash out all the psychological-delusion scenarios. That stuff was hackneyed ten decades ago. You really did see it, Hunter. Not everything is relative. Some points are fixed. Some things can be measured absolutely. You believe in angels, don’t you?” “I surrender.” muttered Hunter. “I should have known better. I deal with the study of the stars, and every week’s new observations call into question every one of our conclusions. I suppose I’m hardly one to say what is and isn’t possible.” “Yet we can know what is and is not real, Hunter.” said Ronnie. “We never know fully what is physically possible, but we can know what is metaphysically possible. Our minds are able to discern what is and what is not. Miracles do not faze me. Impossible conclusions do.”